Zachary Peters

We are in Philippians, and for context, Paul has been speaking to the church in Philippi, addressing several issues that congregation was facing. First and foremost, he touched on the importance of remaining steadfast in following the Lord, even as external pressure mounted against them. Philippi was a fiercely patriotic place. The people there prized their Roman citizenship. So when a person set aside that Roman identity to become a citizen of the kingdom of heaven, conflict was bound to follow, and it did. Paul encouraged the church to keep moving in the right direction and to keep doing the right thing despite the strife.

Over the past couple of weeks, we have watched Paul turn his attention from the external strife to the internal strife. The church was experiencing disunity, and Paul gave an explicit command: live in a manner worthy of the gospel. For Paul, one of the ways you do that is to have a servant’s heart, to put away selfish ambition and conceit, to put away pride, and to be humble. That is the command. That is one of the keys to living in a manner worthy of the gospel.

For the past two weeks we have talked about this humility, and this week we come to it again, but through the perfect example of Jesus Himself.

What we are about to read is easily the most read and studied section of Philippians. More has been written about this small passage than any other portion of the book. I promise not to get bogged down in all of it, because the heart of it is relatively simple. It provides a foundational understanding of what it means to believe that God came in the flesh as Jesus.

Another word for this is the incarnation. The incarnation simply means that God came to earth not merely as God, but as God and human together. He came in the flesh, as flesh. And that is a really big deal. If you are a Christian, it matters a great deal. In fact, many of the cults that orbit Christianity get the incarnation wrong, and they are cults in large part because they do not understand it.

The contemporary Greek philosophies surrounding the early church also struggled with this. It did not make sense to them that perfect God, perfect in form, would come and take the form of imperfect humanity. So it is important for us to grasp the incarnation. Paul not only uses this passage as a teaching point about the incarnation, he also uses it to support his argument about the importance of humility and service in the church. Paul is brilliant like that.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Philippians 2:5–11 (ESV)

I love this passage. I have read it over and over and gotten many good days out of it, because there is so much here. Here is something that does not come across in English: in the Greek, this flows almost like poetry or a song. It has a rhythm to it that works extraordinarily well.

Now, whether it was actually a song that was being sung does not matter, and whether Paul composed it himself or borrowed the structure of an existing poem or song does not really matter either. What matters is that this is a wonderful example of the gospel and good theology being shared in a place where most people could not read.

Here is why that matters. If a people cannot commonly read, how are they supposed to learn what it means to be saved or what we truly believe about Jesus? How do you carry that information when you cannot check Google or open a Bible whenever a question arises? You use the tools of good language: songs and poetry. Songs and poetry stick in the mind better than prose. I am speaking to you in prose right now, and you might catch a percentage of it, but much of it will slip away by the time you walk out the door. A song, though, might stick.

So very early in the life of the church, we see Paul use these tools to communicate scriptural truth. This matters, because a good number of people who challenge Christianity point out that much of what we believe about God and Jesus seems to have solidified a couple hundred years after Jesus. That is simply not the case. I do not have to ask you to take my word for it, but I did study history, and that is not the historical picture we see. Even in the text itself, we find that what we believe about the incarnation was largely present from the very beginning. This passage is one of those early glimpses, showing that Paul and others already understood with clarity what they believed about Jesus.

Now, if we are not careful, we can get dragged into the weeds of a 2,000-year-old debate, and I do not think that is useful for us. Some people view this passage as merely an ethical example to follow. Others view it as a somewhat random event Paul uses to make sure the Philippians know what they believe. I have no problem holding both of those together. A great deal of theological debate is simply pedantic; often both sides carry some truth and can be combined. That is what we have here.

Paul certainly wants to remind the church of the basics of why they can be unified. Why can the church be unified? Because we are unified in Jesus, who was God, who came to earth, who lived, died, and rose again. But in that remembrance we also find the strongest example of humility and service we have. It is both.

At the beginning of this section, back at the end of chapter 1, Paul commanded the church to live in a manner worthy of the gospel. Now he reminds them what that manner actually means. He is getting down to brass tacks. You say, “live in a manner worthy of the gospel,” but what does that mean? This is what it means.

In verse 5, Paul essentially tells the church to pick up this attitude — the attitude of humility we have been discussing, the attitude of Christ he is about to explain — and apply it to their lives. He is pointing back to verses 1 through 4 and forward to what he is about to teach about Jesus. He does not want them to hold a merely cerebral understanding of the gospel. He literally wants them to put it into practice. My children often know exactly what they should do; their problem is that they do what they know they should not do. We are no different. At this point in our Christian walk, we probably know much of what we should do. The problem is rarely knowledge. The problem is in the action. Attitude is reinforced by action, and you cannot separate the two.

Christ Jesus had this attitude, Paul insists — and not only an attitude, but a way of living. How did it play out in practice? Jesus, who was God, did not use the advantage of His position, His power, His might, and His sovereignty. He did not exploit those things. Instead He emptied Himself to become man. He did not have to do it, but He did.

We see the word “form” several times here, in connection with “likeness.” One way to make sense of it is to picture a construction site. A form is a wooden or metal barrier set up in a certain shape; you pour liquid concrete into it, and the concrete takes the shape of the form. The same is true for a blacksmith pouring molten metal. The form defines the shape of whatever is poured into it. The Greek word translated “form” here goes further still: it carries the idea that gods, humans, and animals each had a different form. It is ontological — a description of what something fundamentally is. The gods were understood to be incomprehensibly different from humans.

So Jesus was in the same form as God, which is to say He was God. And yet He chose to take the form of a human — and not just any human, but the lowest, a servant, a slave. The Greek word is doulos, and it is not a flattering word. He who was in the form of God chose to take a lesser form, and eventually even died on a cross for us, which was the lowest form of death for the lowest of humans. There is a reason Paul calls the cross foolishness and a stumbling block. The people who died on crosses were often slaves, thieves, traitors, and liars — the worst of the worst. And in His human form, God allowed Himself to be killed there. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45). Attitude and action were aligned.

We tend to get the attitude right. We know what we ought to believe and what we ought to do. But sometimes the action is the struggle, including when it comes to service and humility. We know we should be humble. We know others matter as much as we do. We know we should serve. The struggle is moving from the attitude into the action.

Therefore also. Verse 9 begins with two Greek words, dio kai — “therefore also.” We do not use the construction in everyday English anymore, but it is a strong way of showing that what follows is a direct response to what came before. In direct relation to Jesus’ humility and service, and in direct relation to His sacrificed divinity, God raised Him up and exalted Him.

This does not mean Jesus was not God before; He was. It does not mean God exalted Him to a new position as some kind of reward. Rather, through Jesus’ actions He has been elevated in relevance, in fame, and in practicality across all of creation. The Old Testament carries hints of the Trinity, hints that there is something more, but it was not until His arrival, death, and resurrection that the full reality was attached to His name: the Lord. And “Lord” is capitalized in most translations for a reason. It is not merely a title; it is a name. It points to Yahweh, the personal name of God. Out of Jesus’ humility and sacrifice, the revelation that He is the Lord is birthed.

There is no more well-known name than Jesus. In the church we pray in Jesus’ name. Even outside the church, the world knows the name. Yet it goes beyond familiarity. Jesus does not force God’s hand, nor is the exaltation and the granting of the name a payment for deeds performed. Instead, God initiated the exaltation of Jesus and freely gave (echarisato) to Him the most superior of names, so that Jesus’ name is now synonymous with the Lord, with Yahweh.

Thielman, Frank S. Philippians (The NIV Application Commentary, Book 11), p. 121. Kindle Edition.

And one day, at the mention of that exalted name — Jesus Christ the Lord — every single knee will bow, and all for the glory of God. Here Paul is partially quoting Isaiah 45:23, where Yahweh declares that every knee will bow to Him. Paul takes worship that the Old Testament reserved for God alone and applies it to Jesus.

A note worth making: not everyone will bow with joy. We will bow joyfully, by God’s grace. But many will bow in shame and fear — a painful reckoning, when the evidence stands so plainly before them that it can no longer be ignored, and they are forced to admit once and for all that yes, He is the Lord.

Why does Paul share this poignant gospel example with us? Not merely so we can know this about God; we know much of it from other scriptures already. This is not empty knowledge. It is knowledge that must find an outlet in our actions. In particular, Paul gives us this example so that we can follow it. We can imitate Christ because the picture of who He is has been so well described.

This passage is not just a picture on a wall for us to admire. It is an invitation. C.S. Lewis, in Mere Christianity, which we discussed not long ago, offers a small example: children pretending to be mothers and fathers, nurses, soldiers, police officers, and mail carriers. My son Benjamin pretends to be an archer all the time; he walks around with a little bow, trying to shoot the cat and the ceiling. Children pretend. And here is the thing about pretending — one day it ends, and what they were pretending to be becomes, in some way, a reality in their lives.

Why does Lewis mention this? Because there is an invitation here. Sometimes, when we are dealing with disunity and strife inside a church, what we have to do is take a step back and pretend that we are Jesus — to ask honestly that old question, “What would Jesus do in this moment?” Maybe I do not feel like doing it. Maybe I am uncomfortable doing it. But I am going to pretend that I am Jesus, and I am going to do it anyway. And eventually, just as with our children, the pretending ends, and who we have become is more like Christ. We have the mind of Christ because we have practiced it. The next time you face strife and pain — in your family, at work, at home, and especially in church — take a step back and ask honestly what Jesus would do. Often He would walk away, or speak His peace, or relent, because He is the perfect image of humility and sacrifice for the good of the people around Him.

That is why elsewhere Paul says, “Put on Christ” (Romans 13:14). You pull Him on almost like a covering. You are not Christ, but you put Him on, and in doing so you begin to take His shape. And in Colossians Paul says your life is hidden with Christ (Colossians 3:3). Even though you are not Christ, you are hidden inside of Him, and so He begins to define who you are, what you do, your mindset, your attitude, and your ability to set aside selfish ambition and conceit in order to be someone who is humble and who seeks to serve.

Paul has given us a glimpse of the mind of Christ, and that glimpse should readily destroy selfish ambition and conceit in our hearts, and birth in their place humility and service to one another.

If we can practice this in the church and as the church, we will be propelled into a selfish world as something so countercultural that people will have to take notice. We are separate from the world in a technical sense, but we are in the world to impact it. When we walk into the selfishness of the world carrying the mind of Christ, there is no limit to the difference we can make. Our calling to be salt and light, as Jesus tells us in the Sermon on the Mount, becomes far easier — a natural outpouring of imitating our incarnate Savior, who was God, yet became a weak human, suffered and died on a cross, and rose again.

You do not have to articulate a perfect sermon from a pulpit or a street corner. Sometimes you preach, and sometimes you teach. But sometimes what you have to do is simply be humble and serve, and in that humility and service you speak in ways I could never speak from a pulpit. I am bivocational, so I rub elbows with all kinds of people outside the church. Often, when someone learns I am a pastor, a wall goes up immediately. People who were loose and casual a moment before suddenly grow guarded. I have watched embarrassment roll over someone the instant they discover I am a pastor, and I have to tell them it is okay.

There is a barrier there between what I can do and what you can do. You may never be called a pastor. You may never stand on a stage. You may never teach or preach to anyone. But you are called to minister, and sometimes your ministry is born out of humility, sacrifice, and service. One of the greatest Christians of the modern era barely preached at all and wrote only one small book. Her name was Mother Teresa, and she is famous for serving. There are Christian communities in India today, not because she preached from a stage, but because she served.

You are not going to get this right every time. You will have flare-ups and moments when you get it wrong, because we are selfish and it is hard to release what we want — our ideas, our desires, our designs. But you can do it through the help of the Holy Spirit. Ultimately, the humility and service that burst out of our genuine attempts to imitate Jesus will elevate Jesus and His name, and one day every knee will bow to that name.

You have a calling on your life. Pick it up. Use it. Be humble. Serve one another, so that the church is strong and can do what it has been sent to do.

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Let us bow our heads and close in prayer.

Heavenly Father, we love You. I pray right now, in the name of Jesus, that through Your grace and Your mercy and the power of the Holy Spirit, You would build us up into who we need to be. Give us Your heart. Give us Your vision for others. Give us the humility we need and a heart for service. Kill selfishness in our lives, kill conceit, kill selfish ambition, and let us become ambitious instead for the things that bring You glory and honor. You have called us to this life, and so we believe You will also help us accomplish what You are calling us to do. We put our trust in You. We pray that anything standing in the way of our following You more closely, You would take care of it. We submit ourselves to You. We submit this church to You. Bless every person here. Give them a good day and a good week, and give them uncomfortable moments to stand out for You. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.